


Birdwatching

by Dogsledwolf



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 5+1 Things, Akaashi Keiji is Bad at Feelings, Akaashi Keiji is a Mess, Akaashi Keiji-centric, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Cuddling & Snuggling, First Year Akaashi Keiji, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Overthinking, POV Akaashi Keiji, Romance, Third Gym (Haikyuu!!), Yeah that's what this is, for the first three chapters, he's a second year for the last three though, mostly - Freeform, well technically he's in middle school in the first one, you know all the official art where Akaashi is staring at Bokuto?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:47:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27702301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dogsledwolf/pseuds/Dogsledwolf
Summary: Five times Akaashi stared at Bokuto, and one time it was the other way around.___To Akaashi, volleyball was not much more than a hobby. He did what was expected of him: arrive on time, work decently hard, and leave as soon as practice was over. But, as he watched number twelve celebrate his point with his team, Akaashi could see that changing. Number twelve's enthusiasm, his determination, his light, was contagious. He could see it in the way it affected Fukurodani, boosting their own moods, encouraging them to work harder, and he could feel it affecting himself.There was just something about number twelve that sparked a fire in Akaashi, a passion that he'd never felt before.Distantly, Akaashi realized he was staring. He couldn't bring himself to pull his gaze away.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Kozume Kenma, Akaashi Keiji & Kuroo Tetsurou, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 248





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure you've all seen the jokes about how Akaashi is always looking at Bokuto in the official art (and just in the show in general) and that's exactly what this fic is. (I wouldn't be surprised if I wasn't the first person to do this.)
> 
> This first chapter's the shortest out of them all and a lot of it is taken from chapter 331 where Akaashi sees Bokuto for the first time, but I expanded on it a bit. Also, Akaashi doesn't know Bokuto's name yet but Bokuto's jersey number is twelve his first year, so that's how Akaashi refers to him.
> 
> All of the chapters are written already, so I'll be posting them all within a few days of each other.

The decision of choosing which high school to go to next year was not something that Akaashi took lightly. Middle school was one thing, a trial run almost, but high school was important and Akaashi wouldn't be able to live with himself if he chose wrong. This one decision would determine his future for at least the next three years, if not longer. 

So Akaashi approached it as he would any other big decision: he made a list.

Although simply calling it a list didn't do it justice. Every possible high school he might go to had a section on the list, full of pros and cons ranging from distance to class sizes to teachers or curriculum. Every different aspect he could possibly think of was included.

And when he had finished his list, a full twenty pages and several days later, he started to narrow it down. It was a completely objective process, crossing out high schools that didn't fit his requirements until he was down to just two—a full three weeks before the applications were due.

The two were Suzumeoka and Fukurodani. Both esteemed high schools, both close to home, and both with good reviews.

He had a recommendation to Fukurodani, but the recommendation was for volleyball not academics, and Akaashi couldn't make his decision solely based on a sport he only half-heartedly played.

The academics at Suzumeoka were arguably better anyway. Sure, their volleyball club was small and unremarkable; there would be no Nationals and no practice matches with other clubs, but Akaashi didn't know if volleyball was important enough to risk the security he would have there. It was looking more and more like the safe path would be to go to Suzumeoka.

Besides, if he went to Suzumeoka he would practically have a guaranteed starting spot on the team. He wouldn't have that at Fukurodani.

Fukurodani's volleyball club was better than Suzumeoka's, to the point that Akaashi was worried he would never get a starting spot. His setting was adequate, good enough for him to get a recommendation to Fukurodani, but not enough for him to stand out, not enough for anyone to comment on it. It simply was. 

Akaashi thought that summed up his life decently. It wasn't great, it wasn't bad, it just was.

But where he wanted to improve that, improve _himself_ , he didn't feel the drive to do the same for volleyball. Not when choosing a high school wasn't about what he wanted, instead it was about what was best for him. And what was best for him was most likely Suzumeoka.

* * *

Even so, Akaashi hadn't fully chosen yet. There was always the possibility of something changing in the next three weeks that would affect his decision. So when one of his acquaintances from the volleyball team offered to accompany him to one of Fukurodani's matches, he accepted. If only for the chance to see a powerhouse school play. He hadn't expected it to change anything.

They left immediately after school and walked over to the city gymnasium, catching the match in the middle of a set when they arrived. As they approached, the squeaking of shoes and the thud of the ball hitting the floor greeted them. Akaashi pushed open the doors and was hit by the faint smell of rubber and the sight of bright lights reflecting down onto the uniform crowds. It was all familiar, enough so that Akaashi welcomed it readily, taking it all in before turning his gaze to the ongoing game.

The ball was on Fukurodani's side, heading towards the setter who was already prepping to toss it. Akaashi traced its projected trajectory with ease, his eyes landing on its target before it had even left the setter's hands.

His eyes locked on and he froze, gaze tilted upward, mouth slack in awe.

There, on the right side of the court, arm raised to spike, his form close to perfect, was Fukurodani's number twelve.

Akaashi was instantly fascinated. In the span of a second, he took in as much information as he could. One, number twelve had the weirdest hair Akaashi had seen—white and gray and spiked up in a way that defied all laws of physics. Two, he was _strong_. A lot of volleyball players relied on their height to send the ball hurtling—and he was tall, taller than Akaashi at least—but he also had the muscles to back it up, his broad shoulders cutting quite an impressive figure. Three, instead of the normal cut-off-at-the-knee knee pads, his were long and black, the legs of his shorts falling over them leaving not even the tiniest sliver of skin.

But the thing that caught Akaashi's attention the most was his face. His eyes were wide and expressive, his mouth lifted into an open-mouthed grin. Even from the distance, even though Akaashi didn't even know his name, he could tell that it was genuine. There was no hidden meaning behind his smile, no distracted thoughts running through his head, no facade that he was hiding behind. Number twelve was open and pure and _happy_.

He was a star.

Not just a star as in a star player—although Akaashi could tell that he was—but also a star in the sense that he was ethereal.

On a basic level, they were the same: both volleyball players, both students. They were made from the same elements, the same cosmic space dust that made up everything. But where Akaashi simply existed, where he simply _was_ , number twelve was _alive_. He was bright and shining and he filled space with grins and shouts of excitement, commanding attention in a way that he was most likely unaware of.

And he was eternal, leaving an impression behind Akaashi's eyes like a firework long after he had spiked the ball. The afterimage would stay with Akaashi for the rest of the day, flashing into existence every time he closed his eyes.

To Akaashi, volleyball was not much more than a hobby. He did what was expected of him: arrive on time, work decently hard, and leave as soon as practice was over. But, as he watched number twelve celebrate his point with his team, Akaashi could see that changing. Number twelve's enthusiasm, his determination, his _light_ , was contagious. He could see it in the way it affected Fukurodani, boosting their own moods, encouraging them to work harder, and he could feel it affecting himself.

There was just something about number twelve that sparked a fire in Akaashi, a passion that he'd never felt before.

Distantly, Akaashi realized he was staring. He couldn't bring himself to pull his gaze away.

"To think he's still just a first year," a voice to his right cut through his thoughts. "He doesn't seem like one at all."

_A first year._

Realization hit Akaashi like a bucket full of ice water. He could play with number twelve. If he went to Fukurodani, _he could play with number twelve._

It's not as if he had assumed number twelve was a third year, but now it was all he could think about. He could set for him, be on his team, play with a star.

For the first time in his life, Akaashi _wanted_ with his whole being. He wanted to set for the spiker. He wanted it enough that his mental list comparing Suzumeoka and Fukurodani was dismissed. In bold red letters, the words "Number Twelve" stamped themselves across the pros of Fukurodani.

With startling clarity, Akaashi realized that he didn't care about the list anymore. Forget the list, forget what was best for him, forget rationality. Akaashi was going to Fukurodani.

* * *

When he got home later that day, the first thing he did was fill out the Fukurodani application. The next thing he did was look up the names of the Fukurodani Volleyball Team and find number twelve's name: Bokuto Koutarou.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akaashi's a first year now. There's a bit of a time skip here because now he already knows and is friends with Bokuto, because when I was planning out the five things I didn't think about their first actual meeting.
> 
> But Akaashi gets to meet Kuroo and Kenma! At the Tokyo Training Camp, because I wanted to write third gym shenanigans even if not everyone can be there yet. And I added Kenma to the third gym because,,, Kenma.

"BOKUTO!"

"KUROO!!!"

Akaashi sighed, stepping off of the bus after Bokuto. Already there were eyes on them, other sleepy volleyball players squinting from the bright sun as they were corralled into the pavilion outside of the Tokyo Training Center. They were there for the annual Tokyo training camp, which meant Akaashi finally got to meet the Kuroo that Bokuto had been talking about for the three months he'd known him. But it also meant Bokuto was reuniting with his friend for the first time in a while, and they weren't exactly the most subtle of people.

"Bokuto-san, please stop yelling. You're disturbing the people around us."

Bokuto turned to him, eyes wide with disbelief as he hopped from foot to foot, seconds away from sprinting over to his friend.

"But 'Kaaaashi," he whined. "It's Kuroo! You get to meet Kuroo, it's exciting!"

He grabbed onto Akaashi's arm and dragged him over to Nekoma's team where a rooster-haired player—the one that had yelled Bokuto's name—was waving at them.

Akaashi let himself be manhandled. He had been expecting something of the sort when they'd learned about the training camp a few weeks ago because Bokuto hadn't stopped talking about introducing his two best friends since.

It seemed almost ridiculous to Akaashi that Bokuto would consider him his best friend even though they hadn't known each other for very long. And yet he had, and the pleasant memory of it left him feeling warm as he followed Bokuto, taking long strides to keep up.

"HEY HEY HEY!!" Bokuto called as they neared, letting go of his arm in favor of running ahead to jump onto the Nekoma player that Akaashi recognized from Bokuto's photos as Kuroo Tetsurou.

Now that he was no longer being dragged along, Akaashi slowed down, walking calmly over to them. His mouth quirked up faintly into a fond but exasperated smile as Bokuto lifted Kuroo straight into the air in his excitement for a hug.

Slightly behind them, hiding in Kuroo's shadow and either unaware of the commotion or just indifferent to it, stood what could only be Kozume Kenma—Kuroo's childhood friend and a first year like Akaashi. His straight black hair fell into his face as he curled in on himself, tapping at a gaming device in a way that screamed _don't notice me_.

Akaashi noted mentally to try not to push Kozume out of his comfort zone and to remain respectful of his aversion to people.

To start, he turned his attention back to Kuroo. Bokuto had set him back down at some point, and now Kuroo held Bokuto in a headlock. He had a smirk plastered on his features, lazily confident as he pretended he wasn't struggling to keep his stance while Bokuto squirmed his way out of the position. Akaashi resisted the urge to roll his eyes at their childishness.

"AGHAAASHII!" Bokuto yelled once he had freed himself. He carded his hands through his hair to spike it back up where it had flattened against his head. Unsurprisingly, he was already back to the level of excitement that Akaashi had tried to tame down for the sake of those around them.

"This is Kuroo!" Bokuto said, gesturing to him. "And Kuroo, this is Aghaaashee!" He gestured towards Akaashi.

"'Aghaa—"

"Akaashi Keiji," Akaashi interrupted before Kuroo could fully mispronounce his name. He’d given up on ever getting Bokuto to say his name correctly, but at this point Akaashi kind of liked them. Even if it wasn’t intentional, they were like Bokuto’s nicknames for him, and a spike of something cold coursed through him at the thought of anyone other than Bokuto calling him Aghaashi or 'Kaashi. It was polite, anyways, to introduce himself with his full name. Nevermind that he interrupted Kuroo to do so.

He stepped forward to hold his hand out. "It's a pleasure to meet such a close friend of Bokuto-san, Kuroo-san."

"So polite!" Kuroo gasped, but he took the offered hand, grip firm.

Kuroo pulled back to make a grab for Kozume's console.

"Oi, Kenma," Kuroo said. Without looking up from his game, Kozume easily side-stepped out of Kuroo's reach. He tried again. "Kenma, stop playing Pokemon and introduce yourself."

There was a silent stare-off, somehow possible even though Kozume wasn't looking at Kuroo. If it hadn't been obvious that they knew each other well, it was now. Eventually, Kozume relented. He tilted his head slightly and spoke, "Kozume Kenma."

Akaashi didn't bother to stick his hand out for a handshake that he knew would be rejected, but he inclined his head like Kozume had done. "It's nice to meet you Kozume-san."

"Kenma's fine," Kozume responded.

"And you can drop the -san from my name," Kuroo butted in.

Akaashi winced. "My apologies, but I'd rather not." He had wondered if they were going to say anything.

He preferred to refer to people respectfully. Speaking informally felt too exposing. If he didn't have a wall of respect separating him from others, there would be nothing stopping them from seeing what he was really like. He'd never really had anyone to refer to casually anyway; no friends close enough to even think about it. The only one who might be close enough to, was Bokuto, but Bokuto was his senpai and it would be inappropriate to refer to him with anything but the utmost respect.

His betraying mind briefly entertained the thought of referring to Bokuto as _Koutarou_ , of Bokuto calling him _Keiji_ , and he was suddenly immensely grateful that he didn't blush easily.

"I know you said he was formal," Akaashi caught Kuroo whispering to Bokuto. "But this is a lot more than I was expecting."

The uncomfortably familiar roiling of guilt settled in Akaashi's stomach. He was perfectly okay with others thinking his politeness was rude—as backwards as that was—but he didn't want it to affect Bokuto. If Kuroo didn't like Akaashi because of his standoffishness, Bokuto would blame himself for it. And then he would settle into dejected mode, and that was the last thing Akaashi wanted.

He could try dropping the -san, or maybe—

Akaashi stopped his train of thought before it could go any further. He couldn't quite believe he was considering dropping some of his mental walls for Bokuto's sake.

Actually, he could. It just surprised him how readily he was considering it.

"Kuroo," Bokuto pouted. "Don't be mean to 'Kaashi."

Kuroo burst out laughing, halting Akaashi in the process of opening his mouth to talk.

"It's not an insult, Bo! l thought it was cute," Kuroo said and then had the audacity to wink at Akaashi.

Akaashi stared back at him, unmoving.

"Kuro," Kozume spoke of his own volition for the first time, tugging lightly on the bottom of Kuroo's shirt.

"Yes, Kenma?"

"Stop trying to sound cool, it's not working."

Kuroo let out a faux pained gasp, placing his hand over his heart dramatically.

"I _am_ cool!"

From the way that he was posing dramatically, Akaashi doubted that, but at least the problem was solved. And Akaashi could keep his honorifics.

Thankfully, before the conversation could dissolve any further, the teams were called over to set up their areas for the night and to get ready for an afternoon of practice matches.

* * *

  
  


The rest of the day proceeded as expected. They won a decent amount of their practice matches, had a short break, and then they were off to free practice, meeting up with Kuroo and Kozume in the unoccupied third gym.

They practiced for a few more hours, practice that mostly just involved Akaashi endlessly setting for Bokuto's spikes, not that that was any different than normal. Pretty soon, they were cleaning up the gym so they could go to dinner.

Of course, cleaning was easier said than done. Akaashi had greatly underestimated how often Bokuto and Kuroo distracted each other.

"Bokuto-san," Akaashi said for the fifth time in the past two minutes.

Bokuto was too busy climbing into the volleyball cart to listen. It held his weight, but as he did so he displaced the balls that Akaashi had just put in the cart and they spilled out noisily onto the floor.

Akaashi turned helplessly to Kozume who shrugged in response and went back to untying the net.

"Bokuto-san," Akaashi tried again, but this time his voice was drowned out by Kuroo's yell of excitement as he jumped into the cart with Bokuto, knocking it over with a loud crash.

With the cart also went Bokuto and Kuroo, and they sprawled across the gym floor with a few shrieks of nervous excitement.

But before Akaashi even had a chance to worry about whether or not they had gotten injured, they were back up, playfully shoving and shouting at the other that they were going to get the most volleyballs back into the cart.

At least Akaashi wouldn't have to pick them up again.

He did, however, bend down to grab one of the balls that had rolled over to him and tossed it carefully across the court and into the volleyball cart as if he were setting it. It hit the bottom of the cart and bounced up, and Akaashi held his breath as it landed safely back in. If there had been any other volleyballs in the cart he didn't think it would've worked, but Akaashi was mildly proud of himself that it had.

"AGHAAASHEE!!! That was so cool!" Bokuto yelled. "I want to try serving them in!"

"Bokuto-san I don't think—" Akaashi trailed off. Bokuto had already served the ball towards the cart.

As expected, the ball hit the cart with enough force that it sprung right back out, sending both volleyballs to roll to a stop by the wall. 

But Bokuto was not deterred. He picked up another ball and served it again, this time pumping his fist with excitement when it managed to stay in.

It always surprised Akaashi that no matter his audience—whether everyone was watching him or no one was watching him, Bokuto's actions never changed. It was admirable that he didn't change himself to fit those around him, that he didn't have a public persona that he put on. He was real and honest and open and nothing like Akaashi.

"You're staring," Kozume said.

Akaashi blinked, glancing over at Kozume who was pointedly not looking at him.

_Ah, he was, wasn't he?_

"I don't want Bokuto-san to hurt himself," Akaashi replied coolly, even as his eyes unconsciously found Bokuto again. He loosely folded his hands behind his back, grasping at his wrist with his left hand.

Kozume made a noise that—even though he'd only known Kozume for a day—clearly showed that he thought Akaashi was lying. It was only partially true. He might not have been staring on purpose, but that didn't mean that Akaashi didn't watch Bokuto to make sure he was okay. Of course, any rebuttal would just make Akaashi sound as flustered as he felt for getting called out.

"You stare at him a lot," Kozume reiterated.

He really wasn't letting it go, was he?

Akaashi didn't think he watched Bokuto all that often. He ran through the events of today in his head to check. Bokuto had texted him that morning, and then had spun him around in a hug when they had met up to get on the bus. Once they were on the bus, he didn't stop bouncing in his seat until Akaashi had asked him about last year's training camp, where he had met Kuroo. His eyes had lit up, leaning in towards Akaashi as he explained. Bokuto's hands would gesture animatedly whenever he got to an exciting part and Akaashi had been content to sit and watch him—

Oh. Maybe it was a lot.

"I don't do it that often," he said anyways, because he didn't want to admit it.

"Mmm," Kozume hummed noncommittally. "You do it more than a friend would."

_More than a friend?_

Akaashi paused.

Kozume was insinuating that he had feelings for Bokuto.

But Bokuto was his friend. Just his friend.

He didn't have feelings for him, right? Did he? How would he even know?

"I don't—" Akaashi started. "I don't like—"

Kozume just looked at him. It was uncanny, the way his gaze seemed to go _through_ him. As if he could see Akaashi's doubts.

"Are you sure?" He asked. And then he was gone, walking off to join Kuroo, leaving Akaashi dumbstruck.

_Was he sure?_


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're still at the training camp but it's Kuroo's turn to say something. And I threw in some hurt/comfort at the beginning for fun.

The next few days at the training camp passed quickly. As filled as they were with practicing and getting to know new people and more practicing, Akaashi barely had time to dwell on whether or not he liked Bokuto.

And his attention was split even more when he woke up on the fourth day. From the minute he blinked awake, Akaashi was on alert. He didn't know why, until he noticed Bokuto curled up on his left, legs tucked into his chest. His eyes were open, but he was completely motionless.

It was concerning to say the least. Because ever since the first day of camp, the two had been relocated to sleep on the far side of Fukurodani's room, away from the rest of their teammates. Akaashi because he had wanted to stay up reading and he needed light to do so, and Bokuto because he never stopped moving in his sleep.

Bokuto never stopped moving _at all_ , awake, asleep, it didn't matter. But here he was, still as stone.

Akaashi stretched, yawned, and forced himself to sit up. He needed to figure out as much about the situation as possible. From the way the room was still grainy with darkness, and from the undisturbed sea of blanket-covered students sprawled on the ground, Akaashi knew it was early. That was good. It gave him plenty of time to focus his attention on Bokuto.

The obvious answer would be that he was upset, but there were no obvious triggers for it. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened last night. Bokuto had gone to sleep around 10 pm after making Akaashi promise he wouldn't stay up too late reading. By the time Akaashi had put his book down—a translated version of the English novel _The Picture of Dorian Gray_ —Bokuto had been sound asleep on his back, limbs sprawled haphazardly around.

It had been a perfectly normal night, a near copy to the rest of their nights here. So what could be wrong? Was he sick?

"Bokuto-san?" Akaashi asked quietly. Bokuto's eyes flickered to his own, but other than that he stayed static. The blank look scared Akaashi. Bokuto was always expressive, even when he was tired. Seeing him this lifeless sent a jolt of panic through him and Akaashi was reaching out to check his forehead for a temperature before he even realized it.

Bokuto's hair was rumpled from sleep, falling in front of his face, so Akaashi brushed the black and white locks away, watching as Bokuto's eyes fluttered at the contact. He briefly pressed the back of his hand against Bokuto's forehead. It was warm, but not overly so. He wasn't physically ill, then.

Most likely, Akaashi's first hypothesis was correct: Bokuto was having a bad day. It wouldn't be the first time, Akaashi had learned quickly about Bokuto's "dejected mode" not long after he joined the team. But this was one of the first times where there was no apparent trigger. It rendered his list of common solutions useless. 

Akaashi felt helpless.

He'd mistakenly assumed that Bokuto would be too excited the whole trip for his mood to fall like this. But maybe it was because of the trip? Were the past few days too overwhelming?

Like a dam breaking, Akaashi found that once the questions started, they wouldn't stop.

Would he want a low-stress day or would he want more distractions? And if he did want distractions, would it be beneficial for him? Or would it make it worse later?

Would asking for Bokuto's opinion on it help or would it just make him aware that Akaashi had to help him? Would he even want Akaashi to help when there wasn't going to be an easy fix?

Akaashi shook his head, forcing himself to snap out of it before he could spiral too far. He was thinking too much for just having woken up. And Bokuto was looking at him again.

He needed to do _something_.

"Do you want to get breakfast with me?" He asked, figuring he'd play it safe to start.

Bokuto nodded, and Akaashi almost sighed in relief.

Before they could get breakfast; however, they had to get ready for the day. So with a bit of prodding and nudging, Akaashi managed to get Bokuto to the bathrooms. He helped where he could, Bokuto's autopilot kicking in when he couldn't, until all that was left to do was Bokuto's hair.

Akaashi handed him his tin of hair gel, expecting him to perk up at least a little at the sight of it. But Bokuto just held it in his hand numbly, like he didn't know what to do with it.

After a moment of deliberation, Akaashi took the gel back.

Bokuto always felt better when his hair was spiked, but he clearly wasn't up to doing it himself. There was really only one option left.

"Bokuto-san," Akaashi said. "Can I do your hair?"

Bokuto's head swiveled towards him. "I'm sorry," he whispered instead. And from the way that he started sniffling, Akaashi could tell he was about to cry.

"Shhh," Akaashi soothed. "It's not your fault."

He held out the hair gel again. "Is it okay if I do your hair? I think it'll cheer you up."

Bokuto sniffled again, rubbing his reddened nose, but nodded shakily.

"Thank you, Bokuto-san," Akaashi said.

With the decision made, Akaashi gently pushed Bokuto into a sitting position on the nearby bench so that he was facing away from Akaashi. He unscrewed the lid of the gel and dipped his fingers in before hesitating, hands hovering over Bokuto's hair.

He didn't know what he was doing.

But it couldn't be that difficult to replicate, right? He'd seen Bokuto do his hair enough times, and—if he really did stare as much as Kozume insisted—he probably had memorized the placement of every hair on his head. He would figure it out. For Bokuto.

Akaashi inhaled deeply and sunk his fingers into the soft hair.

Bokuto leaned into the touch immediately, tilting his head backwards onto his hands. Akaashi's pulse quickened at the motion. This was more than just a nudge to get Bokuto moving or a high five after a particularly good spike. It felt even more intimate than when they'd hugged before.

Because this was something that Akaashi had initiated. And while Bokuto was a very physical person, Akaashi wasn't. He rarely ever initiated touch. He didn't know how to. If he initiated, he could read the situation wrong or mess up and have his advances rejected. It was better if he didn't. Besides, it's not like he needed touch. He didn't crave it like Bokuto did.

And yet here he was, heat rising to his cheeks as hands threaded through Bokuto's hair, distributing the gel somewhat evenly. His blunt nails dragged lightly across Bokuto's scalp, and Bokuto shivered.

_Oh._

Akaashi felt the sudden need to clear his throat, or step away, or just do _something_ , but his hands were still covered in gel, and Bokuto's hair was only partially spiked up.

Feeling increasingly more flustered by the second, Akaashi finished Bokuto's hair in record time, not letting his touches linger for any longer than they had to.

Pulling his hands away to wash the gel off in the sink was harder than Akaashi expected. His fingers itched to move back, to card through Bokuto's hair, to feel the warmth and closeness and intimacy again. He forced it down, fiddling with his own hands to soothe the itch. It barely worked.

Akaashi turned back to Bokuto. While Akaashi was doing his hair, some color had returned to his cheeks and his eyes had sharpened, looking less glazed over than they had before. He still didn't look like his usual self, but it was an improvement. Akaashi's shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, tension seeping out of his body in relief.

"Come on, Bokuto-san," Akaashi said with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Let's go get breakfast."

They made it to the dining hall without any trouble, and by the time Akaashi had placed a tray of miso soup, grilled salmon, and rice in front of him, Bokuto seemed to be feeling even better. He responded to their surroundings a little better, sat up straighter, moved less sluggishly.

Akaashi sat down next to Bokuto with his own breakfast, making sure to stay an appropriate distance away. The need to reach out and touch him was still there and the shorter their distance, the harder it would be to deny.

The tables around them were sparsely populated, empty except for a few early bird students who were talking quietly amongst themselves. Their presence put Akaashi on edge. He didn't want to have to deal with other people right now. And he especially didn't want them to notice him and Bokuto. He didn't want them to do what people always did when they saw him helping Bokuto out of one of his dejected moods: pity him.

Akaashi hated it. They always assumed that he found Bokuto annoying and that he was simply putting up with Bokuto because he had to. And they were wrong.

It wasn't like Bokuto was helpless. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, but that didn't mean that he couldn't accept help. And if Akaashi could make Bokuto feel better then _of course_ he was going to do so. He hated seeing Bokuto down. Bokuto wasn't a burden that he had to deal with, he was his _friend_.

"'Kaashi?" Bokuto asked, speaking unprompted for the first time that morning. Akaashi jolted slightly at the noise.

"You're glaring at your breakfast. Do you not like it?" Bokuto looked down at his own half-eaten plate of grilled salmon. "Do you want mine?"

Why was Akaashi so _bad_ at this? He bit back a scream of frustration. He kept getting distracted, getting lost in his head, getting unfocused from his primary objective of supporting Bokuto. He was supposed to be good at this. And yet here he was, making Bokuto pull him out of his head as he overthought everything for the millionth time today.

"You know I don't think you're a burden right?" Akaashi blurted out. It wasn't what he had meant to say, and Bokuto furrowed his brows in surprise.

It was out of left field, but Bokuto must've seen the desperation on his face because his eyes softened in understanding. He nudged Akaashi lightly on the shoulder.

"I know Aghaashi," Bokuto reassured him. "Is this about what people say sometimes? That I'm the baby of the team?"

Akaashi nodded, turning his face away in embarrassment. He felt childish, to have to need this reassurance when it really didn't affect him at all. He just wanted Bokuto to be happy.

"They're not exactly wrong," Bokuto said, continuing even as Akaashi's head shot up in protest. "Sometimes I do feel like I make things harder for you, but you don't let me get away with anything. If I was being a burden, you would tell me, right?"

It was sound logic, so Akaashi nodded again in confirmation, picking at his forgotten food with his fork.

"Exactly! That's what I remember every time I think like that and then I feel better," Bokuto said. He sounded more upbeat now, his voice rising and falling in both tone and volume. Akaashi would almost be worried that it was a facade, put on to make Akaashi feel better, but he didn't think Bokuto was capable of lying to him like that. Or that Bokuto would even want to lie to him. 

Still, Akaashi couldn't allow himself to relax. There was no telling how permanent it was. Bokuto could just as easily fall back into a mood. There was no precedent for this. Bokuto had never pulled himself out of a slump for Akaashi before.

"Please forgive me, Bokuto-san, for asking such an out of place question when you weren't feeling well," Akaashi replied. Even if he couldn't do anything to change the course of events, at least he could still apologize.

"You don't need to say sorry!" Bokuto said, squeezing Akaashi on the shoulder in a way that was supposed to be comforting, but really just fried Akaashi's mind for a few seconds. His hand didn't linger, but Akaashi could feel the imprint of it long after it was gone. It was cold, an absence of the heat that had been there, as if Bokuto had stolen the warmth from his body. Akaashi had to repress a shiver.

"Bokuto-san?" Akaashi asked.

"Yeah, 'Kaashi?"

He locked eyes with Bokuto.

"You could never be a burden to me."

When Bokuto smiled at him it wasn't his standard wide and unfiltered, laughter-filled grin, the ones that Akaashi couldn't help but think of fondly. It was softer, smaller, eyes crinkling only ever so slightly, but it was just as genuine. It was a secret from someone who didn't have any secrets, a glimpse straight into the soul of a person who wore their heart on their sleeve. It was so incredibly personal that it shocked Akaashi to his core.

Akaashi would do anything to see that smile again.

* * *

"You're pretty good at getting him out of his moods, you know?"

Akaashi looked up from where he was tying his shoe to find Kuroo standing above him, twirling a volleyball in his hands absentmindedly. If Kuroo was taking a break like Akaashi assumed he was, then that left only Bokuto and Kozume on the third gym court. It was free practice, so it didn't really matter if they were slacking off, but Akaashi was vaguely worried that Bokuto would overwhelm Kozume. Already, he could see Bokuto trying to convince Kozume to set for him.

"He told you about this morning?" Akaashi asked as he sat up. He didn't realize Bokuto talked to others about his dejected moods. Bokuto was really a lot more self-aware than Akaashi gave him credit for. He made a mental note to add it to Bokuto's list of strengths after practice.

Kuroo hummed in assent. He sat down next to Akaashi on the bench. "I mean it took you all of what, half an hour to get him back to himself? And you didn't even know what was wrong. That's impressive."

This time Akaashi couldn't help the dry, self-deprecating laugh that burst out.

"I wouldn't exactly say that," Akaashi said. "He pulled _himself_ out of it and then had to pull _me_ out of my own head."

Kuroo didn't look phased, if anything, he looked more impressed. "You managed to cheer him up even when you were having a bad day too?"

_What?_

"I wasn't—" _having a bad day,_ Akaashi was going to say, but was that correct? It would explain why he had kept spiraling that morning. He switched tactics. "I didn't end up cheering him up, though."

"Yeah? So you didn't get him breakfast? And," Kuroo's mouth twisted into a wicked smirk and his voice lilted in a teasing tone, "you didn't do his hair? Because I heard from a certain owl that someone has _long, long_ fingers that feel _great_ when they're threading through your hair."

Akaashi almost fell off of the bench. "He said what?"

"So you admit that was you?"

_Who else would it have been?_ Akaashi thought. For someone who liked to answer questions with questions, Kuroo really did like to hear things spelled out for him.

"Yes, it was," Akaashi admitted.

Kuroo slapped his knee. "Ha! That's too good. See though? You helped."

Akaashi didn't really want to figure out what Kuroo was talking about. And sure, he had helped. But what good was helping when he couldn't _solve_ the problem? When he couldn't _fix_ what was wrong?

In the end, it didn't really matter either way. All he could do was resolve to do better next time. At least Bokuto was happy now, jumping up and down in front of Kozume, holding a volleyball out to him. Akaashi watched as Kozume said something, and then Bokuto was stepping back and throwing the ball for Kozume to set. He didn't know how, but Bokuto must've convinced Kozume to set for him.

Not that Akaashi was complaining, in fact, it was quite the opposite. He always delighted in getting to see Bokuto spike, especially since he was normally too focused on setting to get to see it properly.

Bokuto ran and jumped, arm swinging up and over to hit the ball with a satisfying _thwack._ In the air, Akaashi could compare it to the very first time he had seen Bokuto. The old image superimposed itself over the new, a near-perfect match. He had the same smile, the same determination, the same ridiculous hair—although Akaashi could see where he hadn't spiked it up correctly when he'd done his hair that morning.

The only changes that Akaashi picked out were positives. His form had improved in strides, angles sharp, lines smooth, legs raised just so. The textbook definition of a spiking form. He was stronger too. His defined muscles bunched underneath his skin in a distracting manner as he hit the ball fast enough that it slammed into the ground in a split second. He was unstoppable.

Akaashi's chest swelled with pride. Bokuto never failed to impress him.

"I knew it!" Kuroo exclaimed suddenly from Akaashi's right, making him tense in surprise. "I knew it! You like Bokuto!"

Akaashi froze, cursing inwardly as the second person in twice as many days came to that same conclusion. Kozume had planted the idea in his head earlier, but Akaashi had assumed he only came to that conclusion because he was scarily observant. Not that he was correct. Probably. 

But if Kuroo had noticed it now…

Regardless, it wasn't something he wanted to discuss with Kuroo.

"Of course I do. He's a good ace and a valuable player," Akaashi said. He looped his left hand around the bottom two fingers on his right hand, folding and unfolding the fingers habitually, all the while hoping Kuroo would take the hint and drop it.

He didn't.

"Sure," Kuroo said, waving his hand dismissively. "But you have a crush on him. You do, don't you?" He didn't wait for Akaashi to answer. "You're always looking at him and talking about him. And you only smile when Bo's around."

"It's not that simple, I—" Akaashi cut off. 

_He what?_

From what he figured, he had two options here. He laid them out in his head neatly.

_Option one:_ deny everything

Pros: Kuroo wouldn't know if he liked Bokuto, Bokuto would be less likely to find out that Akaashi was questioning it in the first place, and Akaashi didn't have to get humiliated.

Cons: there was no guarantee that Kuroo would believe him, Akaashi's behavior so far seemed to suggest that he did like Bokuto, and he would be stuck not knowing if he liked Bokuto or not.

_Option two:_ admit that he might like Bokuto

Pros: he could control the direction of the conversation, he wouldn't be called out for lying, and Kuroo might even help him figure out his feelings for Bokuto.

Cons: it was embarrassing, Kuroo would tease him endlessly, and another person would know something about him that he didn't want anyone knowing.

Akaashi didn't want to open up to Kuroo, but his need for knowledge was stronger than his embarrassment. Option two it was.

"I probably like him," Akaashi said in a low voice. "But I don't know."

"What? Why?" Kuroo asked bewilderedly, sitting up straighter at his words.

That was the question. How did you know if you liked someone anyways? Akaashi hadn't ever liked anyone before. Sure, he'd thought of people as attractive—and Bokuto certainly was—but it'd never gone beyond that. He'd never felt the need to do anything about it. At least he didn't think so.

Akaashi sighed frustratedly. It was difficult to think about this rationally.

"I don't exactly have any points of reference, Kuroo-san," he said sharply, not bothering to hide his annoyance. "He's my—my only friend, okay? How am I supposed to know if what I'm feeling is platonic or romantic?"

It was harsher than he had meant it to be and he clamped his hands onto his thighs to keep himself still. But it was true. Sure, he got along with the other members of Fukurodani, but their conversations were stilted. And they were almost all older than him. Bokuto was too, but it didn't feel the same. Not because Bokuto was less mature, but just because he was _Bokuto_. Maybe it was rude to not consider the Fukurodani volleyball team his friends, yet that didn't change the fact that they didn't _feel_ like his friends.

Luckily Kuroo didn't look upset, even though Akaashi had practically yelled at him.

"Well, we'll just have to change that then!" Kuroo said, clapping his hands decisively. "Kenma and I are already practically your friends, whaddya say?"

Akaashi imagined it for a second. The four of them—Bokuto included of course—studying together and playing volleyball, and whatever else you did with friends, Akaashi didn't know. Regardless, it was a nice thought, to be able to have people he can talk to and spend time with.

He nodded. "That's very considerate of you, Kuroo-san. Thank you."

Kuroo's grin was back in full force. "And?"

Akaashi shot him a look. "And, what?"

"Do you feel the same way about me and Kenma as you do with Bokuto?"

Ah, he was still trying to figure out if Akaashi liked Bokuto.

"No," Akaashi replied bluntly. Just saying they were friends didn't change anything. It couldn't compare to Bokuto. Bokuto was his first friend, the reason he got into volleyball, a _star_. Akaashi couldn't imagine any of his friendships being like his friendship with Bokuto.

"Aha! So you _do_ like him!" Kuroo crowed, looking incredibly pleased with himself.

Considering his previous thought, Akaashi couldn't really deny it. 

He did anyway.

"You don't know that. I've known Bokuto-san for a lot longer than I've known you and Kozume-san. And Bokuto-san is—" Akaashi cut himself off before he could say anything damning. "You know what? My break is over. I'm going to go set for Bokuto-san."

"Aw, come on," Kuroo whined. "Buzzkill."

Akaashi ignored him, got up, and walked away.

"This conversation isn't over!" Kuroo yelled at his retreating back.

"Yes it is, Kuroo-san," Akaashi replied, raising his voice just enough to be heard.

Kuroo would corner him again later and force him to fess up, but for now, he was safe. 

And he didn't mind that much when he finally did tell Kuroo, it was nice to be able to talk to someone about it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another bit of a time skip here, Akaashi's a second year now and Bokuto's a third year. This is probably towards the start of the year? But it's kinda vague.
> 
> Also this is mostly just fluff. And a bit of panic because Akaashi's overthinking things as usual.

By Akaashi's second year of high school, when he was officially Bokuto's vice-captain, he had fully conceded that he had feelings for Bokuto.

He'd known Bokuto for a year now, known _of_ him for even longer, and it was long enough that Akaashi knew that it wasn't a short term thing. And being vice-captain just further cemented that idea.

Being Bokuto's vice-captain was just as amazing as it was exhausting. Amazing, because he got to spend a lot of time with Bokuto. Exhausting, because he got to spend a lot of time with Bokuto. And it wasn't just that Bokuto was sometimes exhausting to keep up with, it was that Akaashi had to measure every word, every action, to make sure Bokuto wouldn't notice anything different.

But he wouldn't trade it for the world. Even when that meant they were staying late in the club room going over plays for the twentieth time.

"Bokuto-san, we really should get this done. The sooner we do, the sooner we can leave," Akaashi reminded Bokuto from his position on the floor. He had his volleyball notebook on the stool in front of him, pencil tapping absentmindedly on the page, while Bokuto bounced lightly on his feet in front of him.

"I know, I know. But I'm too excited!" Bokuto ran a hand through his hair. "I don't want to have to focus right now…"

Excited about what, Akaashi didn't know, but it was endearing to see nonetheless. He expected Bokuto to keep wandering around the club room absently, so it caught him off guard when in one quick motion Bokuto dropped to his knees across from Akaashi and grabbed his hands in his own. 

Akaashi's pencil dropped onto the paper as he blinked backward in surprise. Bokuto was suddenly right in front of him.

"Aghaaaasheee, we have all the time in the world!" Bokuto exclaimed, leaning forward farther until their faces were centimeters apart.

Akaashi's gaze threatened to dip down to Bokuto's lips, so he focused on his eyes instead, letting himself be drawn in by them. They were a vibrant gold, the color of streetlights on long walks home after practice, of the sun filtering in through the window as they did homework together, of leaves in fall being crushed under excited feet. The color of joy and the color of all of Akaashi's happiest memories.

"Can't we just take a break for just a minute or two?" Bokuto pleaded.

They _were_ on a schedule, but Akaashi didn't feel much like pushing the issue. None of what they were doing was crucial for tomorrow anyway, so he let himself relax. Let his mind switch off.

"What's gotten you so excited, Bokuto-san?" Akaashi asked. He squeezed their joined hands lightly. Bokuto's hands were practically cradling his own, calloused thumbs sweeping lightly along the long, sleek lines of Akaashi's fingers. It was probably unintentional, just an outlet for Bokuto's excess energy, but it lit Akaashi up inside, warmth flowing up his arms and collecting deep in his chest.

"I don't know, everything?" Bokuto said. "It's just, we're going to be the best ace and setter pair ever!"

Sitting down was apparently too motionless for Bokuto, because the next thing Akaashi knew he was being pulled upwards by his hands as Bokuto jumped up. 

Akaashi stumbled once, twice, half tripping over the stool as he tilted forwards.

For a second, he was worried he was going to fall, but Bokuto's strong arms wrapped around his waist and _lifted_ him up, leaving his feet to dangle uselessly in the air.

Akaashi let out a startled laugh, hands clamping onto Bokuto's shoulders instinctively— _broad, muscled shoulders_ , his brain unhelpfully supplied. He could feel them work underneath his shirt, straining to hold Akaashi's weight.

Akaashi's laughter only spurred Bokuto on, who grinned widely up at him.

"Bokuto-san, you really should put me—" The rest of his sentence devolved into a rather ungainly squeak as Bokuto twirled them around wildly, hoots of laughter spilling out and mingling with Akaashi's own.

It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once, and Akaashi's eyes squeezed shut involuntarily at the sensation.

By the time they spun slowly to a stop, Akaashi felt like he had run a marathon. He looked down at Bokuto, and the last bits of laughter died out in his throat.

Bokuto was already watching him, a soft expression on his face and a light blush of exertion dusting his cheeks.

He was beautiful.

It was such a simple realization, one that he'd had countless times before, that Akaashi couldn't even find it in himself to panic at the thought.

Time fell away until they were the only things left in the world, Akaashi orbiting around Bokuto. He felt like he was glowing, reflecting Bokuto's light the way moonlight reflects the sun, softer and dimmer but just as mesmerizing. It was an uncommon occurrence, to feel important like that. But Bokuto made it seem simple.

Behind them, a door squeaked shut but Akaashi didn't pay it any mind, too distracted by Bokuto.

It would be so easy to lean his head down, tilt Bokuto's chin up with his hand, and connect their lips. He was right there, face at Akaashi's shoulders, close enough that Akaashi could smell his citrus sorbet shampoo—the one Bokuto had rambled on about for a whole day when he had first found it—the scent bright and familiar. At the very least, Akaashi wanted to bury his face in his gel-spiked hair and just breathe in, to relax into the comfort of the moment.

"'Kaashi," Bokuto whispered an eon later.

"Yes, Koutarou?" Akaashi replied unthinkingly, the first name slipping out naturally.

But his words caught up with him a second later, and they both froze in shock. 

The light, carefree mood shattered into a million pieces. Like a dam breaking free, reality crashed into him, spilling into his lungs and drowning him in panic.

He needed to fix it, to apologize, to _get away._

Akaashi wriggled out of Bokuto's grip, pushing at his shoulders until Bokuto was forced to set him down or let him fall. The water was still rising, but with his feet planted firmly on the ground, Akaashi bowed low in front of Bokuto. "I'm sorry Bokuto-san," he rushed out. "That was highly—"

"—You called me by my first name!" Bokuto interrupted. His voice was an anchor, pulling him above the surface of the water, letting air flow into his gasping lungs.

He wasn't mad and he wasn't upset. He sounded happy. Excited, even. And now that the fog had lifted from his mind, Akaashi realized that he had overreacted. Of course Bokuto wouldn't react badly just because Akaashi called him his first name.

For Akaashi's panic-addled brain, calling him Koutarou had been a confession as clear as any words could make it. For everyone else it would just be a kouhai being a little too informal with his senpai. Nothing to freak out about. At least not to that extent. And Bokuto was far from caring about formalities, so he probably wouldn't even think it would be rude.

Akaashi straightened up. With any luck, Bokuto wouldn't realize how much Akaashi had freaked out about it. The best thing to do right now was to try to apologize again. Even if Bokuto didn't care, it was still impolite.

"Yes, I called you Koutarou, but I shouldn't have," Akaashi said.

Bokuto tilted his head like a confused puppy. "But why not?"

"You're technically my senpai, I should refer to you respectfully."

"But I liked it," Bokuto said. "I wouldn't mind if you called me Koutarou all the time!"

"Still, I shouldn't—"

"But 'Kaashi," Bokuto whined. He paused, thinking, before his eyes lit up. "What about when it's just us two?"

He wasn't going to get out of this easily, was he? 

_But would it be so bad?_ Akaashi thought.

He was nodding in response before he could even think otherwise. "We'll see, Bokuto-san."

It wasn't exactly a yes, but Bokuto smiled anyway, pumping his fist into the air at his words.

"Thanks, Aghaaaashii!!"

* * *

Konoha found Akaashi the next day at lunch. Found wasn't exactly the right word, seeing as Akaashi normally ate with the third years, but he managed to catch Akaashi in the halls before they could make it to their usual table.

"Did you tell him?" Konoha asked as he jogged up to Akaashi and fell into step beside him.

"Did I tell who, what?" Akaashi asked, sending him a sidelong glance.

"Bokuto!" Konoha replied somewhat unhelpfully.

Akaashi resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"What was I supposed to tell Bokuto-san?" Akaashi asked again.

"That you like him," Konoha said casually like he was discussing the weather or an upcoming homework assignment, not Akaashi's supposed-to-be-secret crush on their team captain.

Akaashi stopped walking abruptly, causing the sea of students to part around him with a few sighs of annoyance. 

"That I what?" he said, tone deadly serious, when Konoha turned back to him.

"That you like him?" Konoha repeated. He shrugged nonchalantly. "I saw you guys in the club room yesterday, so I assumed you'd confessed to him."

"You were _watching_ us?" Akaashi asked incredulously. It was one thing for Bokuto to see him as open as he had been: laughing and carefree, wrapped in a hug for who knows how long. But it was another thing entirely for other people to see it.

"Not for long," Konoha defended, raising his hands in a placating gesture at Akaashi's tone. "I had forgotten my jacket in the club room so I went back to grab it. But then I saw you two, and you were obviously preoccupied so I didn't want to interrupt."

The hallway around them had thinned out, enough so that their conversation was no longer masked by the other students' chatter. This was not a discussion he wanted other ears to hear, so Akaashi dragged Konoha over to an empty stairwell.

"I'm assuming from your reaction that you didn't tell him," Konoha said, waiting until Akaashi had stopped walking to continue the conversation.

"No, I didn't," Akaashi said. With Kozume and then Kuroo and now this, Akaashi was tired of people figuring out he had feelings for Bokuto. At this point, he didn't even bother trying to deny it. It was embarrassing, sure, but if he didn't act phased it would be harder for Konoha to tease him about it.

"Well you don't have anything to worry about, I'm sure Bokuto likes you back," Konoha replied.

"I'm not confessing to him, Konoha-san," Akaashi said. It was something he'd been thinking about for a while, but he'd never mentioned it to Kuroo or Kozume.

Konoha opened his mouth, most likely to call Akaashi out for being in denial, but Akaashi interrupted him.

"Not because I don't like him," Akaashi rushed to explain. "But because Bokuto-san deserves someone better. Someone who's not afraid of feeling, of being open, of tearing down their walls, of—"

He broke off when Konoha started laughing.

"What?" Akaashi asked, unable to help the exasperated glare he directed at Konoha.

"Sorry, sorry! It's just—" Konoha snickered to himself again. "Are you trying to tell me that you weren't open with him yesterday? He was holding you in his arms! You were laughing! I think that's the most open I've ever seen you."

He placed a hand on Akaashi's shoulder, ignoring his affronted expression. Everything Konoha was saying was true, technically, but it felt like the easy way out. Just because he was open with Bokuto some of the time didn't mean Bokuto didn't deserve better.

"Not to mention that I don't think you've ever lied to Bokuto. You're your own person, Akaashi, so you're going to express this 'openness'"—Konoha used air quotes to emphasize his point—"that you're obsessed with differently than everyone else. So just because you don't laugh or smile as easily as the rest of us doesn't mean you're less honest or less deserving of love."

"And besides," he continued. "If you're that close to Bokuto then I don't think you have a problem. He knows you and he'll accept whatever you can give him. You'll just end up hurting both of you if you do nothing."

"Konoha-san…" Akaashi started, not really sure what to say. He felt a little bit like he was going to cry. He didn't think anyone had ever told him he deserved to be loved before.

"You don't have to agree with me yet, but think about it, okay?" Konoha said, slapping him on the back. "Now let's get to lunch before Bokuto starts to worry."

One conversation wasn't going to fix Akaashi's insecurities, he knew that, but once he pushed through the wave of emotion at Konoha's words, he felt slightly more hopeful about the ordeal than he had before. Akaashi closed his eyes, breathed in deeply, resetting himself mentally, and followed Konoha to lunch.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell that I like the training camp?
> 
> Because we're back,,, again. Yes, half of the chapters in this fic are set at the training camp. I regret nothing. Plus this time we've got the whole third gym! What more could you want?

By the time July had rolled around and they were heading to the Tokyo Training Camp again, Akaashi had made up his mind that he was going to confess to Bokuto. Or more accurately, Kuroo and Konoha had pestered him until they got him to agree that he was good enough for Bokuto. Kozume had helped too, with his assured and confident observations that Akaashi couldn't help but trust.

But he still hadn't confessed. It never felt like the right time. Either Akaashi didn't want to disrupt the mood, someone else was there, or he just couldn't force the words out of his mouth. There was always _something_ getting in his way. And he couldn't bring himself to push for it any more than he already was.

Because Akaashi was scared.

He was scared of being rejected. Of losing his most cherished friendship. Of exposing himself in that way. It hurt sometimes, to be _so_ close to Bokuto but be unable to reach out, to touch. But he willed himself to be content with watching, even if what he truly wanted was always just out of reach.

Kuroo had taken notice of his cowardice and started teasing him nonstop, toeing the line of subtlety with it even when Bokuto was in the room. To think that Akaashi had been worried about getting along with Kuroo when they had first met was almost laughable as Akaashi had no trouble making fun of him right back, always with that air of faux politeness that occasionally got a twitch of a smirk out of Kozume. He’d had less arsenal to work with ever since Kuroo had asked Kozume out a few months ago, but he hadn’t run short of insults yet.

Bokuto delighted in their back-and-forths too, even if he didn't always follow the pragmatic sense of their words. Akaashi could tell it made him happy to see them getting along.

But Kuroo's teasing was arguably worse than any insult Akaashi could come up with because Kuroo never _stopped_. Akaashi couldn't trust a single word out of his mouth. Most of it had some sort of underlying innuendo that he deemed hilarious. And a lot of them were science-related too, which just worsened the effect. Akaashi didn’t know why Kozume had ever agreed to date such a nerd.

Luckily, Kuroo was too busy wrangling a bunch of first years during free practice in the third gym to focus too much on Akaashi. Kozume had refused to join them this time—stating that they really only needed one setter—but Kuroo had dragged one of Karasuno's first years along with him, a Nekoma first year had followed him to escape receiving practice, and then the short Karasuno first year had followed the initial first year. 

It was crowded, and without Kozume and his almost freaky observational skills, Akaashi had assumed he was in the clear to watch Bokuto as much as he wanted. No one was going to pay him any attention when he was surrounded by four of the loudest personalities he knew.

Those same four were currently trying to maneuver everyone into a group picture. Hinata had suggested it and then Bokuto, Kuroo, and Lev had all enthusiastically agreed. Tsukishima and Akaashi had not. But the others had insisted, turning down Akaashi's offer to take the photo by assuring them that Lev's arms were long enough to get everyone in the photo.

Technically it was true, seeing as Lev's arms were abnormally long, but it meant that everyone had to squeeze in next to each other. Lev held out the phone—Kuroo's phone, because Lev had dropped his the day before chasing after a cat—as everyone else gathered around him. Kuroo stood to his left, Hinata ducked in front of him, Bokuto leaned in to his right, and Tsukishima planted himself behind everyone else, face decently visible on the tiny screen. Akaashi took a page from Tsukishima's book and found his place at the very edge of the screen next to Bokuto.

"AGHAAAAAASHII!! You're not in the photo!" Bokuto called, motioning him closer with his hand.

"Oh no," Akaashi deadpanned as if that hadn't been the plan. But Bokuto thwarted any other attempts by latching onto Akaashi's shirtsleeve and tugging him in. Akaashi went easily, letting Bokuto drape his arms over his shoulders and slot his head in next to Akaashi's. They were gross and sweaty from practice but Akaashi couldn't bring himself to care. He relaxed into the position, slumping farther back into Bokuto's chest and relishing in the comforting weight of his body against his own. 

With Bokuto's face practically pressed into his own, he couldn't turn his head to look at him fully, but Akaashi watched from his peripheral vision as Bokuto grinned cheekily at the camera and flashed a peace sign. They were close enough that Akaashi could see the crinkle at the corner of his eyes, the faint color in his cheeks, the fullness of his lips.

Akaashi knew that he should be looking at the camera, but he couldn't tear his attention away. Bokuto had a magnetic pull, drawing his gaze like a moth to a flame.

There were a few clicks of a shutter and then everyone was pulling away, Hinata jumping to grab the phone from Lev's hands. Before letting go, Bokuto tightened his hold into a hug that had Akaashi gasping for breath in a way that he hoped he could pull off as the result of pressure on his airway. Bokuto lifted off of him a second later and without the steady pressure on his back, Akaashi felt cold.

He shook it off while Kuroo sent the photo to everyone's phones. After that, everyone started to disperse. Tsukishima disappeared immediately, Bokuto and Kuroo headed off after making Akaashi promise he would follow shortly—it had been a long day and Akaashi had been dragging his feet to catch a minute alone. Lev ran off with a yell of _Yaku-san!_ Pretty soon, the only people left were Hinata—who was digging frantically through his bag to find his phone, and Akaashi.

Akaashi was about to step out the doors when Hinata finally found his phone, let out a triumphant _aha!_ And then promptly dropped it as he clicked on the photo that Kuroo sent.

"Hinata-kun?" Akaashi asked, concerned at Hinata's reaction. He hadn't had a chance to look at the photo yet, busy with clean up and then grabbing the bag that Bokuto had forgotten, so he didn't know what Hinata could've seen that would've made him react like that. "Is everything alright?"

Hinata jerked his head up and stared straight at him.

Akaashi looked back warily, eyes narrowing in suspicion as Hinata's head swiveled wildly from Akaashi to the dropped phone, back to Akaashi, and then down at the phone once more.

It was a cold sort of clarity that hit Akaashi when he realized what he had been doing when they took the photo.

"Hinata-kun?" Akaashi repeated, hoping that Hinata hadn't come to the conclusion that Akaashi feared he had.

His hope was cruelly crushed as Hinata picked his phone up off the floor and shoved it into Akaashi's face. 

"Does he make your heart go FWAHHH!?!?" Hinata half-yelled.

Akaashi gingerly took the phone from Hinata, pulling it away from his face so he could look at the screen. It was the photo they had taken just now, which was to be expected, but Hinata had zoomed in on Bokuto and Akaashi's faces and yeah, he was screwed.

Bokuto was looking at the camera and grinning from behind Akaashi, his arms wrapped around Akaashi's shoulders. It was exactly as Akaashi had remembered because Akaashi had been _watching Bokuto when the photo was taken._ And that was exactly the problem.

Photo Akaashi was not looking at the camera, Photo Akaashi was looking at Bokuto. And if that wasn't already enough, Photo Akaashi's mouth was quirked into a slight smile, his eyes soft with adoration as he looked at Bokuto like he was a shining star.

Photo Akaashi looked like he was in love.

_And maybe he was_. He felt his cheeks heat up at the thought.

And there was no way that no one else had picked up on Photo Akaashi's expression, especially since Hinata stood there waiting for a response about Akaashi's heart.

"If you're asking whether or not I have feelings for Bokuto-san, then yes, I do," Akaashi replied.

Hinata's eyes lit up. "That's so cool! Does he know? Are you dating?" He gasped again and lowered his voice to a stage whisper. "Is he like _volleyball?_ "

_Volleyball?_ Was it impossible for Hinata to ask questions that made sense? Although Akaashi was decently sure that Bokuto would've been able to understand it right away.

"Are you asking if I like him as much as I like volleyball?" Akaashi clarified for a second time.

"Mhm!" Hinata confirmed.

"I like—" Akaashi paused, trying to figure out how to word it in a sense that Hinata would understand. 

Bokuto was the one who inspired him, inspired his passion for volleyball, even if he was completely unaware of it. Akaashi had never told him why he decided to go to Fukurodani. He'd never told him that he might not have even continued playing if he hadn't met Bokuto. But he _had_ met Bokuto, and going to Fukurodani was one of the best decisions of his life.

"I like volleyball _because_ I like Bokuto-san." Akaashi finally decided on.

Hinata's eyes grew wide at the information, practically vibrating with excitement. "Wooaahh… That's like—" he threw his arms out above him in demonstration—"this much!"

Akaashi nodded amusedly when Hinata started bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet. "I suppose it is."

"But Bokuto-san doesn't know?" Hinata asked, sounding like he was trying to wrap his head around the fact that someone could like someone else that much and _not_ tell them.

"No, he doesn't," Akaashi replied.

"You have to tell him!" Hinata crowed, grabbing onto Akaashi's arm in a pleading manner. "Before he graduates, okay? You like _volleyball_ because of him, you have to tell him!"

Akaashi shook his head. "It's really not that simple, Hinata-kun," he explained, even as a little deadline that read _Tell Bokuto-san that you like him_ marked itself into his mental calendar.

"Please?" Hinata asked. "I'm sure that Bokuto-san likes you back!"

With the objective already marked into his calendar, and with Hinata's pestering joining the ranks of everyone else's, Akaashi couldn't do much more than sigh in defeat. It was the push he'd been waiting for, anyway, to get him to finally confess instead of continually putting it off.

"Okay. I promise."

* * *

**Owl Cats**

**Kuroo Tetsurou**

_Sent an image_

**Kozume Kenma**

wow u dont look as dumb as usual kuro

**Kuroo Tetsurou**

Aww kitten! That's so sweet

But more importantly

Do you see something interesting Akaashi? <(*Φω~*)>

**Akaashi Keiji**

Kuroo-san, kindly shut up.

**Bokuto Koutarou**

WHAT R U TALKING ABOUT??

OHH THE PHOTO???

SORRY AKAAAAAASHII I THINK I DISTRACTED U!!!

WELL JUST HAVE TO TAKE ANOTHER ONE TMRW

**Akaashi Keiji**

It's just a photo, Bokuto-san. It doesn't really matter.

**Bokuto Koutarou**

OK!!!

I STILL THINK U LOOK NICE KAAASHIII!!!!

**Akaashi Keiji**

Thank you.

**Kuroo Tetsurou**

Oya oya? <(ↀДↀ)>

**Akaashi Keiji**

Kuroo-san.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We made it to the final chapter!
> 
> Thank you all for reading this whole thing, I had a lot of fun writing it.

It all came to a head during one of Kuroo, Kozume, Bokuto, and Akaashi's game nights in the middle of winter. Their game nights were a fairly regular tradition. They would meet up at one of their houses, play video games for hours, and then—when Bokuto started to fall asleep on top of whoever he was sitting next to—Kuroo would force everyone to go to bed. From there it was a scramble to snag the best spot while Akaashi and Kozume tried to see who could stay up longer before Kuroo noticed. Kuroo always took Kozume’s game away first. Not for lack of trying on Kozume’s part, but because they tended to sleep next to each other and Kuroo had long since trained himself to recognize the screen’s blue light.

Sometimes it still took him by surprise, Akaashi thought as he glanced around at his friends in Bokuto's living room, that he had friends that he was close enough to spend the night with on a regular basis.

And they were close enough to be close physically as well. Akaashi's shins were pinned to the base of the couch by Kozume's back as he sat on the floor. Kuroo was next to Kozume, his head brushing against Akaashi's knees as he leaned towards his boyfriend to give him unhelpful advice on how to get through the current level of Celeste on the TV. And on the couch next to him, his legs strewn across the empty cushions, sat Bokuto, his back pressed to Akaashi's side. In Akaashi's hands was a steaming mug of hot chocolate, the warmth seeping past the ceramic and into his calloused fingers.

Akaashi basked in the situation, snuggled further into the giant owl-patterned quilt he was curled up under, and let the world pass him by. Surrounded by his friends like this, he felt like he _belonged_.

Conversation ebbed and flowed around him, but he made no move to join in. There were no expectations for him here, nothing he needed to do, no persona he had to put on. It was enough for him to just be here. And that was it.

The night passed slowly but surely. Bokuto was starting to nod off, eyes blinking blearily at the screen, head tipping forward before jerking back up. He was going to fall over if he didn't lie down, so it was exceedingly easy, simple even, for Akaashi to lift his arm and tug Bokuto's head down into his lap. Bokuto went without question and Akaashi discarded his mug onto the table next to him in favor of carding his fingers through the dual-toned hair.

They didn't touch like this often, they were never this deliberate, so Akaashi didn't really know why he was now. But he knew that he didn't want to stop. And Bokuto didn't seem to mind with the way his eyes shut and his head tilted into Akaashi's hands. Satisfied that Bokuto was no longer in danger of falling off the couch, Akaashi turned his attention back to the TV.

His hands kept up their ministrations as Kozume progressed screen by screen. Akaashi was wondering how long Kuroo would wait until trying to get them to bed when he felt the uncanny tingling of awareness that someone was watching him.

With Kozume and Kuroo on the floor and no one else in the house, there was really only one person it could be. Apparently, Bokuto wasn't asleep like Akaashi had thought he was.

Akaashi had half a mind to pretend he hadn't noticed, silently cursing himself when he realized how likely it was that Bokuto had noticed every time that he had watched him. But he was curious, and he knew the feeling wouldn't go away until he acknowledged it, so Akaashi found himself looking down.

Like he expected, Bokuto was staring up at him. Their eyes met. The dim light from the television elongated the shadows on Bokuto's face, bathing him in a cool light that accentuated his features. His expression was soft with sleep, but there was something more to it that Akaashi couldn't quite place. It was almost contemplative, and it caught Akaashi off guard.

Neither of them spoke for a long time. And when Bokuto finally did, it was like the words had slipped out of his mouth, unbidden.

"'Kaashi," he breathed. "I'm in love with you."

_What?_

"No you're not." Akaashi's tone was harsh, immediate, a knee jerk reaction. Bokuto flinched back as if hurt, head sliding off of Akaashi's lap as he sat up.

He wasn't. He couldn't be.

Because Bokuto was passionate and impulsive and Akaashi loved that about him, but it also meant that he spoke without thinking and without truly understanding what he was saying.

Bokuto didn't love him. He just thought he did.

But, oh, did Akaashi wish he did.

"You're _not_ ," Akaashi repeated, but it came out broken, his voice cracking on the last word.

" _Akaashi_ ," Kozume warned, the _stop ruining everything for yourself_ going unsaid.

"I'm sorry," Akaashi replied, hands fisted in the quilt on his lap. He squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out his tears and the reactions of the others.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. And then he was moving, near-blindly running to Bokuto's bedroom and slamming the door shut.

He sunk down against it, hand coming up to cover his mouth as the lump in his throat grew.

It was painful to hold it back, but Akaashi didn't want to cry. Not here. Not when there was no way that he could come out of this situation without Bokuto knowing that Akaashi loved him and without it being confirmed as unrequited.

Unrequited love was what he had expected. He hadn't let himself hope for otherwise, so why was it so _painful._

Akaashi didn't get any bit of reprieve before there was a knock on the door.

"Akaashi?"

His control broke. 

Akaashi let out a shuddering sob at his name, unable to hold back as hot tears ran down his face. Because that hurt worse than the faux confession had.

Bokuto had never called him Akaashi before.

And it was Akaashi's fault. He ran away. He threw Bokuto's confession back in his face. Even if Bokuto didn't mean it, he still thought he did. And Akaashi had completely rejected him.

Akaashi couldn't let himself be the cause of Bokuto's sadness. He pushed himself off of the ground and opened the door, catching just a glimpse of Bokuto's worried face before he was dragging him past him into the room and slamming the door again.

With his back still turned to Bokuto, Akaashi dropped his forehead against the cool wood, trying to calm the tears that were still slipping out.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. And if Bokuto hadn't realized he was crying yet, he knew now from the thickness of voice. Akaashi pushed on anyway, wrapping his arms around himself in a self-soothing manner. "But I don't think you thought this through. You _can't_ love me. You're—Bokuto-san, you're a _star_ and I love you more than anything, but I'm just me. I'm not… I'm nothing compared to you."

"Oh 'Kaashi," Bokuto murmured and Akaashi sobbed in relief at the familiar nickname. A light hand tugged at the base of his sweater.

"Can you turn around please?" Bokuto asked. His words were measured, most likely trying to keep Akaashi from panicking further.

Akaashi didn't want Bokuto to see him crying, but seeing as he'd just told him that he loved him, he didn't think the moment could get any more embarrassing. He turned around.

"I realized that I loved you when we were on the couch because I looked up at you and you looked so _pretty_. And then I started thinking about how you're always there for me, and you're so patient and smart and—you're the best setter I could ever ask for, 'Kaashi. And it hit me that I wanted to spend forever with you, and… and I love you, okay?"

Bokuto went to reach out to him but hesitated, letting his hand fall back to his side. "And I know you're worried because I just realized it, but it was true even when I didn't know."

Akaashi supposed there was merit to that. You didn't have to be aware of something for it to be true. Love didn't depend on the cognizance of others.

"I'm sorry," Akaashi repeated again. He felt like a broken record, but where the other apologies had been panicked and desperate, this one was lighter and calmer. He laughed wetly, wiping the tears off of his face. "I keep messing this up, don't I?"

"You haven't done anything wrong, Aghaaashii," Bokuto reassured.

Akaashi didn't agree, but he knew that Bokuto was kind enough to forgive him. Bokuto called him patient, but really it was the other way around. He'd never once gotten frustrated at Akaashi for taking time to figure things out, or for panicking and overthinking.

"You know what?" Bokuto said, his voice less serious as he seemed to have picked up Akaashi's change of mood. "I'm going to make you realize how amazing you are. I promise."

Akaashi smiled. "Yeah?"

Bokuto nodded. "Mhm! Where should I start? Um… you always know how to cheer me up! Aaannd you're really good at predicting what's going to happen during a game…"

He kept talking, going through all of Akaashi's traits that he could think of. Bokuto was smiling as he spoke. It was the soft smile, the one he had seen only a few times—the first being at the training camp his first year. Seeing it made his heart swell, even as Bokuto's compliments made him more and more flustered.

Akaashi tried to hide how much his words were affecting him. Because it was embarrassing, but then they switched to physical traits. 

"Oh! And your hands, 'Kaashi, your _hands_. They're so graceful and strong and I love it when you play with my hair, it's—"

It was too much.

Akaashi rushed forward, covering Bokuto's mouth with a hand to get him to stop talking before Akaashi spontaneously combusted.

"Okay! Okay," Akaashi practically squeaked. "I get it, thank you—" he made eye contact with Bokuto, his face just centimeters away from his, and the rest of his sentence trailed off.

_Oh,_ they were very, very close.

" _—Koutarou_." He finished dumbly.

Their closeness was doing things to Akaashi's head. In reality, Bokuto wasn't that much taller than him, but his years of volleyball had paid off, leaving him with strong, broad shoulders, and Akaashi felt wonderfully enveloped by his presence. Bokuto's hands hovered at his waist, having flown up when Akaashi had stepped in, and Akaashi wanted nothing more than for them to close the distance and touch him. 

_This was happening_ , Akaashi had to remind himself as he caught sight of the flush on Bokuto's face. 

Akaashi had dedicated so much time to watching Bokuto, but this was like nothing else he had seen before. His usual animated manner was traded for something more relaxed, and Bokuto watched him through half-lidded eyes. His face was flushed, his breath coming in quick through Akaashi's fingers, and Akaashi _really_ needed to move his hand.

He uncovered Bokuto's mouth, unable to stop his eyes from darting down to his lips when he did so, and then there were words tumbling out of his mouth. "Can I kiss you?"

Bokuto inhaled sharply. They were close enough that Akaashi could feel it. "Please," he whispered.

Akaashi complied, tilting his head up and ghosting his lips against Bokuto's. It was the barest hint of contact, yet it sent a jolt of pleasure rushing through Akaashi's body. 

He pulled back shakily only for Bokuto to _finally_ wrap his hands around Akaashi's waist and gently tug him back in, ducking down and capturing his lips in a proper kiss.

All coherent thought flew out of his head. 

Bokuto's lips glided across his own, hot and slightly chapped in a way that weakened Akaashi's knees. His eyelids fluttered shut, hands snaking their way up to the nape of Bokuto's neck.

Kissing Bokuto was a supernova, a bright explosion that imprinted itself behind his eyes. It was bright and all-encompassing, obliterating Akaashi's senses in one fell swoop. But more than that it was an understanding, a reciprocation of feelings and thoughts as Akaashi poured every bit of his love into the kiss.

They broke apart to breathe and Akaashi rested his head against Bokuto's, elation coursing through him. It was silent for a moment, and in between their slowing breaths, Akaashi heard a familiar voice whisper through the door, "Kenma, do you think they're making out yet?"

Akaashi and Bokuto looked at each other, and then Akaashi snorted.

"Kuroo-san needs to learn the concept of _privacy_ ," Akaashi projected, loud enough for Kuroo to hear.

"Oh crap, I think they noticed us."

"They noticed _you._ I'm not doing anything, Kuro. Don't drag me into this."

“Kitten, boyfriends are supposed to be _supportive_ _!"_

There was a _fwump_ of something soft hitting the door and then a yelp of surprise. Akaashi assumed that Kozume had thrown a pillow at Kuroo.

Bokuto laughed. And then they were both laughing, the excitement and absurdity of the night finally catching up to them.

He looked so cute, that Akaashi couldn't help but lean back in and give him a peck on the lips.

" _Keiji_ ," Bokuto gasped out, hands tightening on Akaashi's waist in surprise. "Please go out with me."

Akaashi smiled.

"Of course, Koutarou."


End file.
